What is the big difference?

I recently learned that my art teacher from kindegarten/first grade days has finally retired.  Thank goodness, as far as I am concerned she retired about 20 years to late.  I think she should've quit teaching art before I had the displeasure of ever being a student of hers.  I remember her clearly even though its been many years since I have seen her.  she was this big hulk of a teacher, with long black hair with streaks of gray.  I remember seeing her sit behind her black desk, with her boobs resting on the desk.  If you are a women, you know what I mean.  Sometimes it nice to just sit and rest your boobs and let something else support them because they are so heavy and cumbersome.  She used to do that a lot. 
When I was younger I was a bit shy and reserved, not much different than I am today,  hmm that is a surprise.  I was easily intimidated.  Hmm, not much has changed in that regards either. One day she was giving us instructions and I didn't understand what we were to do, so I did it wrong.  When she found out she told me I was stupid and the most untalented art student she had ever had.  That just about crushed me.  She may have been right, and the truth cut me to the core.  I believed her and to this day, I cannot paint or draw to save my life.  Even my stick figures are ugly and crooked.   I hate art class, I resented her and I never wanted to ever be in her class again.  I was very happy and relieved when my mother took me out of public school and put me in a small private church school. I shudder to think of how low my self esteem would be if I went to that public school for my whole childhood. If you think its' low now, what would it had been after 10 years of that kind of nonsence.
Fast forward 20 years later, I am raising my own family and have my own children.  My youngest daughter, since her dad was forced to leave us by cps, has been sad, angry, withdrawing, sassy, and just plain negative.  Its heartbreaking because she is usually loving, funny as heck, easy going and level headed.  Alot of her behavior I attribute to what we are going through as a family.  Some of it though I think is from school.  There is a boy there who for one reason or another has decided to pick on her.  Now I don't know if its because he likes her so he has to be obnoxious.  They are in 3rd grade .... Any how last night she was going on about how she didn't want to wear a jacket out side because a coat doesn't look right on her body and how she is so ugly.  Ugly is the last word I would use to describe her.  She takes after her dad and looks a little like the pocahantus from the disney movie.  It seems like he thinks she is ugly and she believes him.  Why we believe only the negative crap that other people say to us is beyond me, but most of us do.
Then I think back to the supposed worse events in my life, the ones that I imagine the counselors would say I am in denial about.  The ones that have made me whatever it is that I am today. The molestation I went through as a child.  When I was five and six I didn't have many friends that I remember.  I didn't live in a neighborhood where other kids were.  I am seven years younger than my sister because I was an "accident".   I didn't fit in school.  I wasn't exactly picked on by other kids, more or less ignored.  Can't say much as changed in that regards. 
In the small Protestent church I went to, there was a boy there, he was six years older than me. He had dark black hair and red cheeks.  His cheeks always looked red, but would get even brighter red when he was mad.
  He used to come and play with me after school.  We would play with matchbox cars in the mud, and he would push me around in a wagon, really fast.  I would steer it as we zoomed all over the yard.  In the winter we would go sledding.  He would make jumps or we would go over big rocks and fly through the air.  I had a lot of fun hanging out with him and since he was older, that made it even better. He was "cool" in my mind.   I don't think we did a lot of talking, just playing.  Sometimes I would go over to his house and we would watch fraggle rock or play some archiac video game.  This is the early eighties so we didn't have much for video games. 
I don't remember exact dates about what happened.  It all just seems to blur together.  I think one summer day we were bored and he wanted to go across the street where an old barn was.  I believe this barn used to be a part of a camp for kids, but I don't know  for sure.  It was abanoned.  I remember in the lower part of the barn, the basement like area, had  porn magazines down there.  My sister and brother showed me one time. 
I knew that I was not allowed to cross the road, that was off limits, but I let him talk me into it.  "Its  okay, you won't get into trouble, I will look out for you, your parents won't mind because you are with me."  So I went with him and that was when he did something, but whatever it was I don't recall because I blocked it out.  I remember him zipping up his pants and telling me to zip up my pants.  Nothing happened after that, we went home and played some more.  I was uncomfortable about the situation and curious about how I could "float away in my head" when something happened that I didn't like.  I find that fascinating. 
Time went by.  We never talked about that day or anything.  Winter came around, and he started to ask me to kiss him.  It was something I didn't want to do. I was never much of a kisser or a hugger growing up.  For what ever reason, I have always  had trouble showing affection for others.  Not that I didn't want to be able to give hugs and be loving, it has always been hard for me. Just like I would like to be friendly and outgoing but my fear stops me.  My fear keeps me from showing affection as well.  So him wanting kisses may have been an innocent thing.  I don't know.  It was nothing major, he just wanted little kisses on the cheek.  At first I gave them to him, but then he wanted more and he wouldn't let me go inside until I had given him a kiss.  One day I was cold and wanted to go inside and he was saying no you have to kiss me first.  I saw his mother and told her.  "he wont let me go inside unless I kiss him, tell him to stop, its not fun anymore."  Well that was the end of that friendship.  I don't know what kind of trouble he got in.  I don't know what happened, just he stopped coming over to play and afterwards he didn't have much to do with me, even when my parents started to send me to the same one roomed church school that he was in already.  I didn't understand why he stopped liking me. 
What I do remember is when I was in the third grade (that's when I switched from public school to the church school) he kept getting into trouble a lot that year.  The teacher would make misbehaving students do "air chairs" and not just for a few minutes but 30 mins to an hour.  That was probably a pretty painful punishment.  Sometimes he would also draw a circle on the chalk board and you had to stand on your tiptoes and keep your nose in that circle. I never had to be punished so I don't kow what it was like.  Finally one day he got fed up with the punishments and he climbed out the bathroom window.   I was pretty impressed how he managed to make it to the tree outside the window and escape, without getting hurt.  I never saw him or his mother again after that.  I believe the school board expelled him.  Years later just after my daughter was born I saw him again briefly.  I didn't say much to him because I was resentful that my husband was in jail for a sexual offense that was less than the stuff that I imagined happened to me and here he was at my sisters house like nothing ever happened. 
Some interesting similiarities between him and my husband.  They both have black hair.  They both were adopted and they both have been accused of sexual misconduct at some point in their lives.  They both showed me love and friendship and filled a void in my life.
So what happening had more impact on my life?  The art teacher or my childhood friend?  What hurt the most?  I can tell you that the art teacher is someone that I have disliked ever since that day in her classroom.  I am still angry about how she treated me.   My childhood friend, I am torn about.  I don't like what he did, but I regret how it ended.  I wish in retrospect that some adult could have seen that he needed help and knew what kind of help would be best for him.  I wish we had stayed friends at least for a little bit longer.  I wish I could talk to him today about what happened and ask why he did it, and why he stopped being my friend.   

Fairy tale love, what is that?

Most of the times I don't consider myself cold hearted or even a very bitchy.  Jealous...well that's a different story.  I do believe there are those who may disagree and probably do consider me a heartless, selfish, jealous, mean bitch when it comes to my husband.  I feel like people who don't know me and my husband when they see us together, probably wonder what is such a handsome man doing with such an ugly plain boring woman.   No, I am not saying that I am truly ugly, just plain and understated, average.  You would have too look twice to see that I am pretty in my own right.  You would have to take time to get to know me, before you would find out that there is more to me than you see on the surface.  (yes, I am aware that I need my head examined because I suffer from low self esteem and I need to correct this.. blah, blah blah)
My husband on the other hand, is the type of man, that women notice, and notice a lot.  Maybe it's because he is flirt and not afraid to make eye contact with others and then give them a big smile. When he is at his most  charming, he will make you feel like there is no one in the world for him but you.  He has the ability to sweep a woman off her feet.  Too bad reality is a bitch.
 He has always been blessed to have a body that attracts attention as well.I won't go into detail....but he has the most beautiful lips and his backside is nice too.   What people don't know is that behind the smiles and come hither eyes is a man who is insecure and worries way too much what other people think about him.  He carries with him a fear that people if they know the real him,  they will not like him.  So getting to know the real man, sometimes can be difficult.  I have been with him for 14 years and some days he still is a mystery to me.
I feel like I get judged a lot by other women because they feel I don't love my husband enough, show him enough attention, do enough for him, sometimes I am mean and nasty and it goes on an on.  My response to them...walk in my shoes and lets see if you last as long as I have.  Lets see how your love holds out.   Love someone who has been in and out of prison, is on the registry, has problems telling the truth, and is admittedly an alcoholic and drug addict.  Personally, I think sex addict should be added to the list.  Try to love someone and have your heart broken what feels to be a hundred times and see how hard it is to be loving and kind.  Tell me what disappointment does to your heart.  At least for me, the pain has changed me.  I feel like if you could take my figurative heart/love out of my body you would see it is scarred and has become tough and leathery.  A hurt heart does not love like an undamaged heart.  Whereas 14 years ago, when our love was young and fresh, I was ready to climb mountains and take on the world because I loved him so much.  In some ways, I have climbed mountains and do take on the world because I love him.  I'm just not as open about it.  I am not as easy on him as I was in the past because I don't see him with the rose colored glasses of young love.  Loving him is as they say for better or worse, in sickness and health...has been for many years for worse, and in sickness.  I think we had three months of beautiful, uncomplicated love.  After that the truth began to emerge and nothing has ever been the same.
Recently, he told me about how this woman from FB realized he was separated from me and called him, wanting to know if he would like to become "better acquainted".  I can tell you that I am jealous when other women make passes at him. It hurts. Not only can't I trust my husband completely, but I also can't trust other women.  I also think that as women we are too quick to get involved before we really know a person. 
 My husband knows he is free to go and be with someone else, if he doesn't want to be with me.  "Don't let the door hit you on the way out".  I promised him I would love him and be there for him, which I try to do to the best of my ability, but I am not such a glutton for punishment that I wouldn't let him go if that's what he wanted.  
I know when I get talking like this, people have got to wonder why do I stay if I sound so miserable.  Well, that is complicated in itself too.  My misery is only partial, other days I have the most beautiful life/husband/family.  We promised each other we would stay and love each other through "No matter what."  We are trying to keep that promise, though sometimes it feels way too hard.  I also know that for all his faults I have a good husband who loves me.  Granted his love is complicated and we don't live or love in a fairy tale fashion, but I believe its genuine.  I also believe that we all have our imperfections and inadequacies.  I know that I am not the perfect wife, far from it.  I don't dress or look like a Stepford wife.  I don't keep a perfect house, nor do I care to cook.  I don't have a body to die for.  (I wonder how come Hollywood marriages don't  last when they seem to have everything a person could want, money, looks, personality)  There is a long laundry list that I could name that makes loving me difficult.  I am pretty sure that we are all that way.  We all have good traits and bad traits.  None of us is perfect.  So whom am I to cast stones at anyone?
My husband for one, when he is around, does a majority of the housework.  We will clean the house together, but since he is faster, he ends up doing more.  He will cook meals and we all eat as a family.  Since he has left, rarely do the girls and sit down and eat as a family.  I think one reason is that its painful and too quiet.  When he is here, I know I feel safer.  Life though challenging, didn't seem quite some overwhelming.  Now that he is gone, it seems like one thing after the other keeps going wrong.  He would do little things that are easy to over look, but you miss when you no longer have them.  Having gone ten years with him gone, and then having him back again, I can tell you that I love having someone in the bed next to me to cuddle up next too, especially when you start to feel lonely.  It's one reason I would not want to marry a truck driver or a traveling salesman.
He may not have always given me as much attention as I craved, but I do know he gave me more attention than some husbands give their wives, whether it was talking with me, helping me, or desiring me or giving me permission to take care of my needs.  Something that I was taught not to do growing up. 
  He has been my for the most part my only friend for the last 14 years, though I am starting to develop other friendships.   I think that our friendship is the biggest thing that maybe keeps us together.  We love each other, we have each others back when no one else would and we have been best friends. 
There is an an analogy in the Al- Anon rooms, that if life was like a backpack and we could all put our backpacks in a pile and then go choose a backpack from that big pile, that most of us would end up choosing the same backpack.  I think that for me there is a truth to that.  I know our life is hard and some days overwhelming difficult, but I don't think I would trade it for any other life.
Sure some days, I would love that life on the beach, soaking up the sun.  Sure I think I would love to have a life with a butler and a maid, but what would the trade off be?  Would I have a husband who was gone all the time?  Maybe my husband wouldn't want me because he could have some young thing that reminded him of his youth.  Maybe another husband would shame me or push me around.  Maybe we would love each other and then I would lose him in some tragic accident.
 Just the children I have with him are a blessing.  I don't know how or why we were blessed with the girls we have.  They amaze me beyond words.  I can't imagine a better gift than the children we have been given and that includes my step children.  Despite having parents that come with a lot of baggage, all these children have hearts that are as open and loving as the warm summer sun.
So do you see, that there are just as many reasons to stay as there are to go?  So far I can't picture myself with another man.  I can't picture being able to love another man as much as I love my husband and visa versa.  Though I do believe a man could love me, it wouldn't be the same.  What if he was controlling or wanted a perfectly clean house?  What if he was uptight?    What if he had the same problems as my husband, then I would be jumping from the pot into the fire.  So for today, I stay with what I know.  If it's not meant to be, then I am sure it will change.  Life has a way of working itself out.
What about you?  What struggles do you face in your life or relationships?  What have you learned?  Why do you stay?  Why did you leave?  I know that as unique as my situation is, that its not completely unique and there are plenty of people in the world who can relate in some way or another to what I am going through. 
 

Self Destructive Behavior

The first thing I read this morning was the story about country singer Mindy McCready committing suicide.  I love country music, because so often its about  every day life.
Mindy's life on the news for last 8 years its seems has not been about her music, but about her drug and alcohol problems.  I am sure most of the news articles written today are going to do a time line of her legal and personal woes.  It's sad that this will our main focus.  We don't really know what she was like a person.  We know she was beautiful on the outside and a talented singer, but what else do we know. Was she gentle?  Did she have a mean sense of humor?  Was she a good mom?   We know that as far as the news media goes she couldn't really get her act together over the years.  Why is this?  Why do some people struggle and struggle, only to keep repeating behaviours and patterns that hurt themselves and the ones who love them?
I seem to ask myself this question a lot, as I watch my husband struggle.  Why does he repeatedly shoot himself in the foot?  As you know, I don't mean literally, at least not yet.  Maybe since he can't have a gun he hasn't done that.  
It seems like he gets in trouble, and then he does something that makes the trouble he is in even worse.  I don't know if somewhere someone wrote a recipe for disaster in his DNA code.  It seems like they did.  Even this last time around, what started off as a simple DUI, seems to be morphing into some out of control avalanche that is going to crush our family.  He says he's trying to do the right thing so he can be home with us, and I believe him, but either he has the worst luck of any person I have known, or subconsciously he makes really questionable decisions or maybe fate has a familiar/different plan for him/us then the one we want.  I don't really know.  Only time knows the answer.
I think it goes back to the abuse he went through as a child.  I don't believe you can blame all your actions on your child hood and the trauma you went through. As adults we need to take responsibility for the choices we make.  I think you need to look back and start to  try to understand why you do the the things you do, and then make conscious choices to change your actions.   Even when you are finally able to start understanding your past and how it has shaped who you are, it doesn't mean that you will be at a spot where you can make changes right away. 
 I can only imagine how growing up being caller nigger because your skin was darker than everyone else's would make a child think that there was something wrong with them.  Then when he did things that children do, such as reach out an open window and grab a bush when they were in the car driving down the road.  He did this one time and he hurt his arm pretty bad.  It wasn't bad enough that he got hurt by what he did, but he got a beating afterwards. I could never understand that.  Too me, the getting hurt was enough punishment, but apparently his step father didn't think so. 
These are two little examples of how life was for him on a daily basis, but I think its enough to begin to understand, why he may hate himself on a subconscious level.  Its the only thing that makes sense to me, we hurt ourselves because we don't think we are worthy of anything but hurt and pain.  We hate who we are.
  Even when you know you shouldn't hate yourself, but you really do.  I find getting my head and my heart to be on the same page is a difficult thing.  Isn't that why so many times people do the very things they know they shouldn't.  Their logical mind tells them not too, but something else inside them compels them to do it anyways.
Logic tells me that if a person suffered years of abuse as a child, the journey to healing is not going to happen over night.  It will take time, maybe lots of time to undo the damage that was done.  I guess the real question is, can the damage be completely undone?  Are there some people who were so damaged that there is no hope for them?  How do you tell when a person is beyond help?  How do you know when you yourself are beyond help?
The next set of questions, how does a person stop hating themselves?  How do they stop the self destructive behaviour once it starts? 
I think finding the answers would be important for everyone because I am sure all of us on some level have self destructive behaviours.  I know I do, maybe not as pronounced as my husband or other people, but its self destructive just the same.
I think that there are probably lots of answers our there.  I know that for some people the answer is found in what they call the three A's.  I learned about these in Al anon.  Awareness, Acceptance and Action.  You have to become aware of what it is that you are doing that is destructive, maybe even become aware of why you do the things you do.  Once you are aware and have some understanding then you can begin to accept.  I think (I may be wrong) that I read in a Native American book that often times, the conflict we have in life is because our real lives don't match what our internal ideas about what our life should be.  When they don't match, then you are in turmoil.  What you have to do is accept how your life is.  Once you accept it and make peace with it, you can then begin to take action. 
For myself, I often try to take action first.  I don't want to know what is causing my pain or how I got to this place in the first place, I only want to make it STOP!  However that only works for the short term usually.  It doesn't fix the underlying issues of why it happened in the first place.  That is why action in the 3 A's comes in last.  It's about getting a clear head and making choices with a level headed approach instead of knee jerk reaction.
Please feel free to comment, share your insight or whatever is on your heart or mind, if you would like to.  I believe, the more we share what the truth about our lives that we will find the answers we need for healing ourselves, our loved ones and maybe even our world.
 

Day 42 on my own, just some thoughts....

I had so many things I have wanted write about over the last few days, health insurance, the blame game, jealousy, the legal system to name a few.  Now I don't even know what to write.  I am blocked up.  Its been a little bit of an emotional roller coaster.  Though, sometimes I think life is a constant roller coaster with ups and downs, loop de loops, slow spells, hang on for dear life speeds, caves full of darkness and monsters and then these beautiful take your breath away highs that are gone in a flash.
This weekend we had the big snow storm of the season.  Even though we were in the midst of the storm, my family and I weren't too affected by it.  We didn't lose power but for a few seconds.  The snow though deep was not a heavy wet snow in our area, which makes it easier to manage.  I guess there are things we can be grateful for.  The weather forcasters in our area were just about 12 hours off on when they predicted the storm to start.  That meant the kids didn't have school....I don't really like it when they cancel school and then there isn't any bad weather.  It would have been especially upsetting if I had stayed home from work because of the storm.  That was a big concern, I work 60+ miles from my house and I didn't want to get stuck away from home.  People were encouraging me to not go to work. I am glad that I didn't listen this time.
It's been about a month and 13 days since my husband separated, first by my request, then cps made it official.  Still don't know where that is going....I definitely don't like them involved in my affairs.  I have been checking into the state health insurance plan, like they requested.  I don't see how I can afford an extra 600.00 a month when I can barely afford rent,utilities, car payments and food.  Its one of those catch 22.  You are damned if you do, you are damned if you don't.  See this is how I look at it.  Maslow's hierarchy of human needs:  Shelter and food are the most basic and important priorities, which is why they form the base of the pyramid.(  If I get health insurance and counseling like they demand then our basic needs are going jeopardized.   If I take time off during the week for counseling then my job is in jeopardy, which again puts the ability to take care of our basic needs at risk.  Personally I think that the government wants us to be dependent on them so we can be better controlled. Oooh, listen to the paranoia. 
  Then comes safety, something that is in short supply of late.  The main reasons for not feeling safe.  1) Fear of cps and authorities and what they are going to do to my family 2) Apprehension of my neighbor think and might do because my husband is an rso.  They are afraid of him and we are just as afraid of them.  Isn't that ironic.  3) Being alone without my husband.  I know that they say women don't need men, but I think this thinking has led us to a throw away society.  I know I can survive without a man, but living isn't as good.  Even with my husbands drinking, our standard of living has gone down since he left 4)Finding a possum strung up in the bushes, knowing he didn't put himself there and knowing it is highly unlikely my dogs  threw him up into bushes like that, makes me wonder why someone put that there.  Is it a message or something?  It's not like we feel wanted in our neighborhood, we don't make as much money as most people in this area and like I said, my husband is an rso and everyone knows it from the school officials to those on our block.  It's a small affluent town and clearly we don't belong.  I don't know what ever made us think we could go unnoticed here.  We only moved here so we could complete the registry and things have fallen apart rather quickly.
After the basic needs and safety are taken care of, comes love and acceptance.  If love and acceptance is such a big thing for humans to obtain, then why are people who have been punished for there crimes continually punished by withholding employment and acceptance by main stream society.  How can we reintegrate into society when we are shunned?  How can we stop the behaviors that got us into trouble in the first place when there is so little acceptance?  I have wondered and wondered about this over the years.  By constant shunning and shaming others, are we not just inviting more trouble and acting out?  Isn't part of the problem for many people who are incarcerated that they are deficit in some areas such as education, social skills, and family?  How can they develop the self esteem needed if we deny them but the very basics needed for survival.  It's not even about becoming all they can be as a person, but at least meeting the basic needs so that they have a chance of actually living. 



 

My experience with our judicial system.

15 years ago if you asked me about our judicial system, I would have told you that I thought it was a fair and just process.  I didn't have any complaints at that time.  How could I, the most I knew was what I learned in our school books and from the news.  Well, that all changed in the summer of 1999, when my then fiance, now husband got himself into the worse trouble yet.
I came home to find that my fiance had run off because of an incident at my parents house.  Everyone was crying and was upset.  The police were there with their dogs searching for him.  I gave  them a sweatshirt so they could try to track him down.  It was like something you see in a movie.  It ended up that they couldn't find him because when he crossed over a river that ran near our house, the dogs lost his scent.  I think I remember him telling me how he hid and watched the police search for him.  He then spent the night walking to a place that we both hung out at time to time when we wanted someplace private and quiet to go to.  I was there, not waiting for him, but had gone there trying to sort out my thoughts when he showed up. 
We talked things out, and made a decision to try and work things out for the baby's sake.  We decided that since his days being free were numbered we would spend a couple of last days together.  So I called out from work and we went to the Catskills.  On the way, we recorded stories and notes on a tape recorder for our unborn child, telling him or her how much we loved them and how sorry we were for getting ourselves into such a mess.  I think I still have the tapes somewhere.   We tried to make the best out of the last few days, a few memories to last us through whatever was in store.  In then end, he asked me to drop him off and let him go camping for one week and then he would turn himself in.  He wanted to spend some time getting up his courage and doing some soul searching.  So I did, not knowing it would be the last time I saw him as a free man for a very long time. 
A few days later the police came to where I was living asking questions, trying to track him down.  They told me, what I know now as police BS," it's okay, he won't be in much trouble, we just need to have him turn himself in, this case will amount to nothing, maybe  a year in jail.  It wasn't that major."  So even though I told them he was going to turn himself in, I didn't want to lie to the police about where he was, so I told them about where I dropped him off and that I would pick him up and  have him turn himself in. 
I don't know how things exactly went down on the day I drove up there to pick him up.  I imagine they followed me and then phoned ahead to the local law enforcement so someone would be there when he came off of the mountain.   This was before cellphones were popular so we didn't have  a way to communicate.  I know that when I got there, I saw his face in the police cruiser as they drove away.  He was so sad looking, it broke my heart once again.
 He was taken to a local police station and then eventually handed over to the originating state police.  Took about a week or so for all this to to take place. I don't remember if he was able to make phone calls on a regular basis from where he was at.  I do remember going back to pick up some of his belongings.
At some point he talked me into obtaining a lawyer for him.  He didn't want a public defender because apparently paid lawyers are supposed to be so much better.  I don't know about that.  Maybe if you are rich, they do more for you.  It certainly didn't appear to help in our case.  I eventually found a lawyer I could afford.  I met with him and told him the story.  I remember little bells going off in my head, as he was saying he would take the case, but that he had a daughter...  When he asked me if I thought he was guilty, I said of course, why would so and so lie?  I guess that sealed his fate there as far as the lawyer was concerned.  The case was done and over with, there would be no sense in going to trial where he would be found guilty.
 At this point in my life, whether he was guilty or not wasn't important.  What was important was that, he be punished appropriately and that everyone get some type of help.  I really thought our justice system cared and wanted to stop the cycle of abuse.  I didn't realize at that time that its a revolving door and that those who enter it are the bread and butter for the state.  Now I feel that our judicial system and correctional system is not about helping people, but about making money, as well as creating jobs and services.
I should have listened to the alarms going off in my head as I handed that lawyer my hard earned money.  He wasn't going to be objective enough to help.  I have problem of saying No...so I didn't say anything but left with a heavy heart feeling that I had made a mistake.  I don't think I ever really saw him again.  We spoke once on the phone when he finally called me back to scold me for sending him a letter complaining about his service and how they were doing very little to help us.  He sent another lawyer in his place to all the court hearings.  Ironically, this associate lawyer eventually would have his own legal problems because he would represent you for a reduce price if you would have sex with him.  I found this out when the local public defender's office referred me to him because we don't qualify for legal assistance, since we are married and I make too much money, but not enough to pay for a lawyer.  I googled the lawyers name and surprise, surprise look at what you find.  Ha, Ha, Ha, joke is on us.  We wouldn't hire him if he was the last lawyer on earth, after what happened.  We would rather just go to court on our own,
I went to all the court hearings, sat on those hard seats, my nerves on edge, my heart hurting to see him shackled up, wearing those orange jumpsuits that made me cringe.  I think the shackles are the worse thing to see.  When the D.A and the lawyer reached an agreement, and he decided to plead guilty. (I don't remember what the original plea deal was anymore) My dad and I were allowed to say something on his behalf which we did.  I wonder to this day, if that was a mistake and did more harm than good.  The D.A made a comment about it" all being a pipe dream".  Then the judge threw out the plea agreement and made up his own sentence, 10 years, suspended after 4 with 30 years probation.  30 years probation?  That's a sure sentence to go back to jail, considering that any infraction at all, even jaywalking could land you back behind the walls.   I think that's when I began to truly see that the court system does what it wants.
The one thing I asked our lawyer to do,  was that the court system give us permission to be a family again when he got out.  That was my main concern.  Let him come home to us, I know he can be a good father and husband.  So he got that much for us.  Little did I know that it was just words on paper.
As far as I know, the victim advocate never got counseling for the victim.  Never requested any family counseling even though this was a crime that affected everyone in our family.  This I think is a big mistake because so often sex crimes are done by a family or friend and the ripple effect is felt by many.  Personally, I don't think they care.  The legal system seems to be a game and a bunch of power plays.  Its not about if you are innocent or guilty but can you outwit your opposition?
He was remanded back to DOC, and for the next 4 years, we went about our lives.  He learned to live behind walls, I learned how to be a mother and support our child without him home with us.  Life keeps moving on.  For those of you, who love someone behind the walls, you probably know what its like for the days to drag on and on.  You try to stay busy so you are not thinking about how lonely you are, but the loneliness is there, sort of a black cloud that is just there, lingering.  Even when you have beautiful, wonderful days, they are not completely perfect because the one  you love is away. We are in a prison as much as the one we love.  I lived each day so I could go to bed and be done with that day.  Each finished day, meant he was one day closer to coming home.
 During his time incarcerated, we tried to get help, like having him go to a prison that offered counseling for sex offenders.  Do you think that happened?  Nooo.  I even hired a sentence specialist.  He was  nice to talk with and very earnest at what he did, but again nothing helped.  Eventually he was released and sent back to NY to finish out his time for the DUI that he got.  The one, that we decided to leave rehab and just live on the lam?  Yep, the law never forgets.
It seemed like everything we tried to do, just backfired.  When he was finally released from NY and we were sure we could start our lives over again,..we got more bad news.  His probation officer was not going to let him come home and live with us.  That guy was a real piece of work.  In fact, he put some vague limits on how often we were allowed to be together.  So like I said earlier, it doesn't matter what the judge says, when you are on probation, the probation officer rules, he is your god, and judge.    Oh my God. Would this nightmare never end?  All we wanted to do was be a family.  By this time we had gotten married while he was in jail.
So during the next 2 years that he was free, he spent his time living in motels, and working for day labor jobs.  We would get together here and there when we could, but he was always afraid of spending too much time with us and that they  would send him back to jail. We spent enough alone time to get pregnant and have our second daughter together.  He was able to be there for her birth, something he missed with our first daughter.
 Some days it seemed like he was happier in jail. Many times before he had to meet with his p.o, he would complain of chest pain because he was so anxious.   Eventually, he started using crack again and was sent back to jail.  This time he decided to finish out his time because he knew that he would never make it with 30 years probation.  So that is what he did.   
When he came home this last time, things were much better, he didn't have probation hanging over his head.  The only thing he had to worry about was the rso registry for another few more years., which in its self is a whole other thing. 
We decided to move to NY to be closer to my parents and because we thought we had a better chance of making a goal of our dream of a self supporting farm that also offered second chances  to those whose lives had taken a wrong turn.  Land is cheaper out where my parents live, much so than we are presently.  I may have mentioned this in one of the other blogs, but when you are on the registry, you have to be careful about where you move to, because your time on the registry may start all over again or they may tack more time than what you had originally.  Some states have told me that even if you are off the registry in the originating state, they will  make you register there.  In our experience we were not told this until we had already moved up there and it was too late to move back.  It's not like we had a lot of money to work with, only what little bit I could save up from working.  As many people who have been in the system can attest to, finding work when  you have a criminal record can be exceedingly difficult, especially if your are trying to be a law abiding citizen. 
This extra 20 years of being on the registry ate at my husband.  He felt lied to and tricked.  Had he been told upfront what to expect, he wouldn't have moved.  I have to wonder what part this played in his relapse.  Maybe nothing or maybe its part of the trigger.  I don't have the answers to that question and maybe never will.
What I do know is that the justice system has not been exactly fair.  There is not a lot of support out there for family of those who are incarcerated.  There is even less help and more stigma if you are a sex offender or family member of a sex offender.  It seems that killing someone has less of a stigma, which I don't get, because when you kill someone that person is gone forever.  There is no chance of life at all, but that's just me.  There is a lot I just don't get.
Because of this experience, I feel I have lost my faith in our justice system.  I no longer believe that I can make a difference and change what I see as unfair or broken our country.  I have trouble believing that the leaders of our country want to do what's right.  They want votes so they can stay in office and enjoy all the perks and power that come from their position.  I firmly believe as long as our judicial system's bottom line is about money, we will never really see any progress or help for those caught up in its web.  I also firmly believe that for real change to happen, it has to start at the bottom.  It has to start with those of us who have been affected and who need and want change to happen.  We have to talk, share our stories and then unite for a common cause, just as the forefathers this country did a great many years ago.

 

CPS, noose around my neck

Every  parent I am sure has heard horror stories about child protective services or department of  children and family services.  You hear about children being taken away from their homes and put into state homes only to be abused.  You hear of parents fighting to get back their parental rights.  I think this state run agency strikes fear into the heart of many parents, especially those who have a criminal record, drug or alcohol problem or loves some one who has these problems. 
It has been my goal since I became a parent to stay off the rader of such people.  I have tried to avoid needing food stamps or public assistance because in my opinion they put you on the rader screen for dcf/cps. 
The first time my husband got in trouble, it didn't affect me as far as dcf/cps went because my children were not born yet, I was only pregnant at that time.  This time around my husbands actions have brought cps down on our head.  It started initially when one of the neighbors found out that a rso was living next to them.  They called cps to report negligence, even though that was unfounded.  That neighbor also told my husband to stay away from them and don't molest my grandchildren. He then put no trespass signs around his house.  I later found out that the resident trooper had to go to school and have a discussion of what it means to have a sex offender living in the town.
  I wonder if such actions were a type of trigger for what happened.  People, and I think people who have been abused, more so possibly are sensitive in nature.  If they feel disliked by people it seems then they go about fulfilling that prophecy.  "You are no good, you are a liar, you are a pedophile, you are scum, you are a drunk"...the litany could go on.  Sometimes people internalize these words and then live up to them like they have lost control because they start believing what is said about them. 
So when this "incident" happened we already had an open case in cps.  Now when my husband was accused, I immediately sent him away.  I didn't call the cops because at that time the caregiver had said that it wasn't needed.  They weren't going to report it because possibly other people would go to jail or the victim wouldn't get to go away on a trip as planned.  Needless to say a few weeks later I was blindsided when I got a call at work telling me to come home right away because CPS was at home with my children.  Ironically, it was the first night since the incident that I allowed my girls to be home alone instead of going to my sisters.  I figured its Friday night, they have no homework, they will be okay for a couple of hours.  My oldest is 13 and my youngest is 8.  I don't like to leave them home alone often, but at some time they have to be allowed to grow up and be responsible for themselves. 
I urgently paged the supervisor and told her that I had a family emergency to attend to.  I didn't give her any details of course.  I raced home, which is 64 miles away, praying that everything was okay.  On the way, I was frantically trying to reach my husband to find out what he knew, he wasn't answering his phone.(He couldn't because he was talking to the police)  I called my sister, my brother in law, the caregiver from the incident.  The only people I got a hold of, of course was my sister and brother in law who didn't know anything.   My sister called my house and talked to my daughter to find out what was going on.  Apparently my husband showed up at the house to surprise me by cleaning it.  (Its really hard for me to work and keep up on housecleaning during the week too) We had planned to spend a few hours together as a family, even though he wasn't living there at that time.  I guess the police had the neighbors acting as spies because they showed up 10 minutes later with cps. 
CPS interviewed my children without any ones permission at that time and went through a diary the girls had given me for Christmas.  In the diary I had written a note to my youngest because she had asked me a question in it about why daddy wasn't at home.   My husband was told by his cousin who had come to house with him that cps took a picture of that note.  They also talked to my oldest daughter who at that time decided to tell them she was afraid of her dad even though he has never laid a hand of her. 
It's a tricky thing with my oldest daughter.  I love her, but sometimes I wonder about her at that same time.  She tells me things and I am just like are" you sure we saw the same thing"? because our experiences and memories will be worlds apart.  I have trouble believing the things she tells me because they just sound so incredible.  Trust me, if you talk with her long enough she will probably have you convinced that up is really down by the time you are done.   A lot of what she says I take with a grain of salt.  She seems to have gotten a sense for dramatics and exaggeration from my side of the family and difficulty being honest from his side of the family.  I worry so much about how hard it is for her to tell the truth.  I wonder what we are doing wrong or if this a stage and she will outgrow it, or is lying hereditary?  Everyone on my husbands side of the family accuses everyone else of lying, so I never know who to believe.  I just take what everyone on his side of the family says with a grain of salt as well.
I don't believe she is truly afraid of her dad.  I have asked her in the past how things have been going having her dad home.  She has told me she listens to him and does as he asks because she knows she will get into trouble if she doesn't.  She didn't like that he wouldn't let her watch TV all the time and that on the weekend we did family activities.  She wanted to stay at home and watch anime and not have to leave. 
When it was just me and her, I had a hard time with her.  She is very strong willed and wants to be the dominating power/female in the house. Over the years she and I have had some real power struggles and I don't know who came out on top.  Most of the time, I was/ am just too tired to care the way I should.   Its easier just to say do whatever you want or ask your dad.  I think that when her dad came home she lost control and power that she felt she had when it was just me raising them.  She was 10 years old when he came home to live, so naturally her world was turned upside down by that.   So I wonder if that is the real fear of her dad was she no longer got  to do what she wanted.  Now that he is gone, she pretty much does as she pleases.  She bosses her younger sister around and has her do the chores.  The only real thing that I think she now does that she doesn't want to is get up and go to school in the morning.  Otherwise now she is on her computer watching anime and eating Reece's peanut butter cups whenever she can.  I truly do not think having her dad leave is in the best interest of the children, but how do you explain the little intangibles to others to make them see and understand?    Ugh, my thoughts are going to a whole other topic with questions that I have.
Back to the story, cps made me sign a paper that he would leave and the children would have no physical contact with him.  That was about a month ago.  So the children haven't seen him for a month.  Its tearing my youngest one up.  She is suffering in silence.  A couple of weeks ago, she let some of her anger out over the whole thing.  She was screaming and crying, cursing out the cops and cps.  This started when my oldest girl asked if it was her fault that they cant see their dad because she told them she was afraid of him.   My poor girl is gonna explode with rage at this situation.  There still is no word on when, if ever, he will be able to see them again.  I am afraid to tell them, that they will see their dad again because I am not sure they will.   I feel so hopeless about the final outcome.   I am afraid to ask because I have no idea what is going on with the investigation.  I think if I just leave things be, maybe it will blow over. 
Yesterday, when I got up, the sky was beautiful and I was feeling okay for the moment.  I was like I am okay today, I think I can do this.  Then at noontime I got a call from the cps worker who is like I am calling to check up on your progress.  Have you gotten insurance yet?  No, but I have applied for full time jobs closer to home that would give me insurance.  Have you gotten counseling yet for your oldest daughter?  No, I am still working on that.  I swear, I will not use counselors they recommend because....I don't trust them, I don't want to be made to do anything by the government.  I don't want to go off on what I think about the government, that's a whole other problem in itself.  She then goes on to tell me that she hopes I will stop denying that I need their help.  I told her I am fine, I have my support system, which is this blog and people who understand what I am going through.  I didn't tell her about the blog, or who exactly is my support system.  She can kick rocks as far as I am concerned presently.  I probably should pray for her to because that sometimes helps to lessen my anger toward individuals.
She continues to tell me that the first case they had has been closed because it was unsubstantiated, but that the 2nd case is going to continue because my children have been affected by what happened.  I really want to say, they are more affected by your actions, than what happened that night, but I don't.  The case is going to be transferred to another case worker and no they don't know what the outcome will be.  It doesn't matter if my husband is charged criminally or not, they are going to be in our lives for the foreseeable future.
I don't know what this means for me and the girls.  I don't know if this means they will start proceeding to take away the girls?  I don't know if I should get a lawyer.    Plain and simple I don't know how afraid to be.  I don't know how I will afford to pay for counseling and insurance and now a lawyer on top of it.  I feel like I am in a ditch of quicksand that is pulling me and my family under and that cps is a noose around my neck tightening as I struggle.
If there is anyone who is reading this that has any insight into cps and what this all means, please contact me.  I really am struggling as to what to do.  My first instinct is to pack up and move to another state, but somehow I think that, that would be called self destructive behavior.  I think its called self preservation.  Does anyone know if I moved away, what would happen?
I feel like I am being treated like a crimnal even though I did nothing wrong and have tried to protect my children and do the best that I could for them all the way around.  One the one hand, I know logically that none of this is dcf's fault.  They didn't cause what happened that night.   My heart on the other hand feels differently.  It blames dcf for the continued hurt and suffering my family is going through.  It blames their actions as much as it blames my husband for his actions for the pain that my children feel right now.  I know some would blame me for letting my husband live with us in the first place.  I don't feel that like that decision was wrong.    I think they benefitted from having him around.   The benfits of having their father in their life despite being a rso are for another day.  Today its  about finding a solution for dealing with cps.